Wind happy ships, that rise and make
Across the gaping bay,
To dance like bubbles in the wake
Of westward flying day.
So quick they rise, so swift they flow,
So bright their topsails gleam,
They seem to come, and come and go
Like joy-thoughts in a dream.
Wind happy ships, in constant flight
Across the sloping main,
That thro' the dark and thro' the light
Sail on and on again.
A port ye have, I know not where--
'Tis far beyond my world--
But pray some day may find you there
With all your canvas furled.